


J'Adoube

by threewick



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, All of the Trainees Gotta Let Off Steam, Eggsy Is A Perv, Exhibitionism, F/M, Harry Is A Filthy Old Pervert, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism, het smut, very light praise kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 21:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12517304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewick/pseuds/threewick
Summary: The first time Harry catches Eggsy in a compromising position, it’s an honest-to-god accident.The times after that... Well. Eggsy hardly feels he can be blamed.





	J'Adoube

**Author's Note:**

> I keep thinking I'm done writing Kingsman fic and then more perverse ideas crop up. I hope you like it!
> 
> *Casual edit on 10/27 to add more build up at a wiser woman's suggestion.

The first time Harry catches Eggsy in a compromising position, it’s an honest-to-god accident.

x

“Fuck - fuck - _fuck_!”

“ _Shhhh_!”

It’s probably not very gentlemanly, to shush a lady when you’re balls deep in her. Then again, it’s probably not very gentlemanly to haul that same lady into a supply closet and press your mouth between her legs without so much as a hello, something Roxy had had absolutely no qualms with.

“Fuck - Eggsy, _Eggsy_ , I’m going to come -”

His back is starting to twinge, last week’s drills catching up to him now of all fucking times. It had seemed like a good idea, crowding Roxy up against the wall and hoisting her legs around his waist, but now she’s clawing at his back and digging her sharp little heels into his arse and - fuck, he’s still so close, so so close-

“ - oh my _god_ , Eggsy, I’m going to come-”

Roxy’s mouth is pressed against his ear, the throaty timber of her voice going straight to his cock though not quite potently enough to erase the protestations of his back. His arm is still trapped between their bodies, his fingertips slipping in the slickness of her even as his wrist begins to fail, too.

“Then go on and fucking do it already, quit nattering on about it, shit-”

“You are - _fuck_ \- such a - oh _god_ yes - _wanker_ -”

Eggsy answers this insult with a particularly violent snap of his hips, twisting the pad of his thumb tightly against her clit. It has the desired effect; Roxy bites down on a sharp, muffled scream, her entire body going taught against Eggsy’s, her back arching against the splayed fingers of his right hand as she digs her heels into his lower back.

“Yeah, Rox, there’s a good girl,” Eggsy goads, the smirk evident in his voice even though his lips are pressed to her neck. She responds predictably: a raggedly exhaled ‘fuck you,’ since Eggsy knows full well how much she loathes being called anything remotely close to pet names during sex. The first time he’d tried it with an innocent ‘love’ she’d nearly kneed him in the bollocks. 

Despite the irritated reprimand, however, Roxy keeps her knees braced against his sides, her back still pressed up against the wall of the narrow supply closet as she struggles to regulate her breathing.

“C’mon, then, Eggsy, get on with it,” she demands in a hiss, rolling her hips and taking him deeper. The wet tightness of her draws out a sharp, unbidden groan from his chest.

He shifts his hands down to grab two handfuls of her arse before resuming his pace, driving into her in greedy, uneven thrusts, his breathing coming hard and fast, Roxy making gorgeous, needy sounds from just above, his mouth now busy at her nipple as she cards her hands through his hair, so close, so so close…

“I’m gonna come,” Eggsy grunts against her skin, and the words break a single damning beat after the supply closet door is drawn sharply open.

Light suddenly floods the small space, half-blinding Eggsy, and Roxy utters a shocked little scream. It would’ve been hilarious had Eggsy not shot his load at that exact same moment. His own guttural, strangled noise is lost in the sharp motion of her attempting to shove him backwards, something that half-fails since he’s still pinning her against the wall, heart racing, sweat beading his bare back, his cock out and wet with Roxy and his own come.

“Sir-” Roxy stammers, the word jarring in Eggsy’s mind though he sees belatedly that her eyes are wide and fixed on something past his shoulder. His head is still a muddle, streaked with confusion and Roxy and his own hard-won orgasm -

At least until he twists halfway around to see Harry Hart, whose own gaze is politely averted from the half-naked Roxy though fixed unabashedly on Eggsy. He looks as unruffled as ever even as he takes in the sight of his protege, well-fucked and wrecked, cock lewdly glistening and on display.

“By that, I presume you mean come to the briefing. In which case, excellent. I’ll see you both shortly.”

And with that, the door snicks shut, leaving them in horrified silence as Harry’s prim footsteps recede down the hallway.

X

The second time Harry Hart catches Eggsy with his pants down, it’s more of an experiment.

X

“What - here? What the hell are you playing at, Eggy? Not here, you idiot, this is near where Hart’s office is, we’ll get caught for sure-”

Charlie, as usual, is being a prize fucking wanker, his nervous gaze darting about as he yanks his sleeve out of Eggsy’s grip and edges back towards the door they’d just come through. Eggsy grinds his teeth together, reminded again that Charlie’s a far cry from Roxy - for one, he’s a colossal prick. For another, he’s a fucking crybaby. But as much as Eggsy wants to slam the edge of his hand into Charlie’s throat, he needs Charlie to be on board for this - he needs Harry to walk in on this, needs to make it abundantly clear that what he’d walked in on with Roxy is far from exclusive.

“Look, bruv, this was your idea, not mine. If you ain’t up for it, that’s fine by me, you can go back to your lonely wankin’ in your bunk when you think Digby ain’t up and listenin’-”

“Fuck you.”

Eggsy grins at Charlie, turning it into something lewd by pressing his tongue to the backs of his top teeth and sweeping his gaze intrusively along his body.

“Yeah, that’s the idea.”

His words had been mostly true; it _had_ been Charlie’s idea, kind of, after Eggsy had spent a full week tarting it up whenever Charlie happened to be glancing in his direction. There’d been a specific incident in canteen with an ice lolly that Eggsy was not particularly proud of, though he can’t regret it because he’s fairly certain it’s what had gotten Charlie here.

Before he can utter a single further obnoxious syllable, Eggsy is yanking Charlie close by the lapels and silencing him with a violent kiss. He’d pulled him into the empty controls room, the one that Merlin had deemed outdated and ‘unfit’ for day-to-day operations in a tone of long suffering. It is also, as Charlie had helpfully pointed out, the closest unused room to Harry’s office, the office that Harry would certainly be visiting today if his schedule was any indication.

And that is precisely what Eggsy _wants_ to happen, since hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the glint in Harry’s eye when he’d caught him with Roxy.

It had been neither disappointment nor disgust, two reactions Eggsy had been fully prepared to diffuse. No, it’d been something different; something darker and veiled, something that Eggsy, in the twilight moment between sleep and wakefulness, fancies as possessiveness. He thinks that Harry had maybe even liked it, seeing Eggsy undone and debauched.

So it makes sense, really, that his foolproof plan is to see that expression again, if for nothing else than to provide himself with prime wanking material. Even if what it takes to get it is sucking off Charlie Dickhead Hesketh.

 

True to form, it isn’t long before Charlie is impatiently pushing Eggsy’s hands towards his cock, his kisses turning sloppy and disinterested. It’s evident that he’s not here for the lead-up and for once it suits Eggsy fine. He wants to give Harry ample opportunity to accidentally stumble in, but more than that, he wants to make sure that Harry walks in on something worthwhile - certainly more worthwhile than a bit of open-mouthed snogging.

“Don’t play at good breeding now, Eggy,” Charlie snarls, placing a firm hand on the crown of Eggsy’s head and shoving him, rudely, down onto his knees. Eggsy might have kneed him in the balls had he not been thinking the exact same thing, instead jerking Charlie’s trousers cheerfully down around his thighs and pulling his cock free.

“Is that it?” Eggsy asks, feigning a wince as he glances up at Charlie. Before Charlie can further sour the mood with a lackluster retort, Eggsy rings his fingers around the base of his cock and runs his tongue, flat and firm, along the underside of his shaft.

Charlie groans and Eggsy grins, his eyes flicking up to the digital clock just beyond Charlie’s right shoulder. 3:41 - in four minutes Harry, punctual as ever, will be striding down the hallway just outside this door. Eggsy’s job is to make sure that Harry can hear them and be perturbed enough to break it up, something that should be easy enough given Charlie’s inability to shut his fucking mouth.

Sure enough, Eggsy has only been working Charlie over for a minute before he’s groaning aloud, two hands buried in Eggsy’s hair, all pretense dropped. He’s loud, gritting out noises through a clenched jaw, biting out sharp, impersonal directions - ‘again,’ ‘yes,’ ‘lower’ - but Eggsy can do better, can get more than this if he tries properly.

For Eggsy, ‘trying properly’ means coaxing his throat into relaxing as he ducks forward, clutching Charlie by the hips, and forces his cock down his throat. It works well enough - only a beat later Charlie is pulling unceremoniously on his hair, fucking rudely into his mouth and throat, unbothered as Eggsy gags and chokes around it. Eggsy, for his part, doesn’t particularly mind the abuse - he likes it like this, likes it all sorts of ways, something he is hoping Harry will witness firsthand any minute now.

His eyes flick back up to the clock - 3:45. A thrill sprints up his spine and he hopes that he’s been right, hopes that Harry’s on his way, wishing despite his careful planning that Charlie would shut the _fuck_ up since he can’t hear a bloody thing around his fuckawful grunting -

And then, right on time, the door is drawn open, Charlie tensing beneath his hands as Eggsy swallows his own moan. He draws off of Charlie with a loud, wet pop, the sound downright pornographic in the metallic echochamber of the abandoned controls room, and turns just in time to catch Harry’s eye.

He barely even registers Charlie swearing behind him, stumbling out of his grasp and unleashing a torrent of apologies and blame - ‘his idea, sir, so sorry, never again, completely inappropriate.’ Instead his eyes are locked on Harry’s, his tongue dragging a slow sweep across his lower lip, well aware of how he looks in his current licentious state. Well aware, too, of the way Harry’s gaze catches at his mouth and burns, before dropping quickly, nearly imperceptibly, to the bulge in Eggsy’s trousers.

“Right,” Harry finally says, his tone sharp and possibly reprimanding though Eggsy still hasn’t moved from his knees. “Clear out, boys.”

Charlie obeys immediately, shoving past Eggsy without a backward glance, babbling more half-baked apologies as he edges past Harry.

And still Eggsy stays on his knees, waiting on Harry to say something further, to do something further.

But he doesn’t. He stays at the mouth of the room, staring at Eggsy with that same inscrutable expression, and Eggsy’s entire body feels suddenly too tight and too hot with it - so much so that he moves, motivated by a surge of bold arousal, to pass a hand purposefully over his clothed cock. He keeps his eyes on Harry as he palms himself, his breath catching slightly, and Harry’s eyes flash, predatory and gorgeous and _fuck_ Eggsy had been right, he’s hungry for it, he wants it, and fuck if that doesn’t make Eggsy even harder.

Harry studies Eggsy for another moment, the tension in the air thick and flushed. Eggsy thinks this might be it; he might finally have Harry Hart to himself, here in this fucking controls room -

\- at least until Harry turns wordlessly and goes, drawing the door closed behind him with a snap, leaving Eggsy alone and achingly hard.

X

The third time's the charm.

X

“I swear to you, Rox, I am not makin’ this up.”

Roxy only huffs in response, the heels of her boots kicking up clods of dirt as she sprints two feet ahead of him. He’s following close on her tail, covering her, the butt of his pistol pressed into the palm of his right hand as he squints through the nightvision green.

“He’s into it - he’s gotta be, the way he was lookin’ at me-”

“DOWN, EGGSY.”

Eggsy drops flat, rolling onto his back and working his gun like an extra limb, firing of four quick shots and downing the drones before they’re up again, Roxy weaving serpentine and Eggsy following.

“He wants it - just gotta work out the right opportunity, don’t I? Gotta make it easy for ‘im, make it clear I ain’t gonna grass him up. When you and me was goin’ at it - ON YOUR LEFT!”

Roxy leaps at the last possible second, executing a fluid roll as she shoots a dummy stunner towards the figure running towards them. The dart lands and judging by the squawk the suited figure emits, it’s Rufus.

“I just gotta find out how to get him there, how to invite him without inviting him -”

“Well you seem so bloody fond of exhibitionism, you pillock, why don’t you just drape yourself over his desk and have a fucking wank?! For fuck’s sake, Eggsy, _COVER ME_.”

Eggsy moves just in time, shielding Roxy with his body as a sudden explosion kicks up a cloud of dirt and dust far too near to them 

There’s a moment of silence broken only by their ragged breathing, a dull ringing whining to life in Eggsy’s ear as he pins Roxy down.

“Rox,” he tells her ardently, patting her on the thigh as she begins army-crawling away, “you’re a fucking legend.”

X

Breaking into Harry’s office is the surprisingly easy part - it’s the figuring out what to do once he’s in that’s tricky.

He had been planning on taking Roxy’s suggestion very literally, simply lying himself across Harry’s desk like the wanton subject of a baroque painting and sliding a hand into his pants, waiting until Harry stepped in to spread his legs apart and say something devastatingly arousing. It seems as good a plan as any - he’s just got to work out what to say now, something that’ll have Harry tenting his trousers in no time flat, something sexy and sophisticated and witty as all fucking hell.

It’s this that Eggsy’s thinking of, pacing tightly in Harry’s office. He’s only got about four minutes until Harry steps in the room and he needs to sort out what the fuck he’s going to say before then. He’s already half-hard just thinking about it, adrenaline fizzing through his veins at the sheer gall of what he’s planning, and he grins to himself, envisioning the look of shock on Harry’s face when he opens the door and finds Eggsy hard again, this time for him -

-when suddenly the door opens, four fucking minutes early.

“ _Shit,_ ” Eggsy hisses, whirling about on the spot and staring, wide-eyed, at Harry Hart.

It’s the exact inverse of what he’d been planning: he is somehow the wrong-footed party, owl-eyed and red-handed, while Harry stands in the doorway, regarding him with his characteristic impassiveness.

There’s a bubble of suspended silence, Eggsy for once at a complete loss for words, Harry blinking at him as though none of this is out of the ordinary.

“When Merlin told me someone had tripped the alarm to my office, I had a feeling it might be you,” Harry finally says, tapping something on his watchface before stepping into the office. The door closes behind him, untouched, and Eggsy’s eyes flicker between it and Harry. Suddenly his plan seems far past ludicrous and well into downright foolhardy; he doesn’t want to blow his chance at Kingsman, not when he’s been training for nearly a full fucking year, not when Harry had trusted him, had vouched for him.

“Listen, Harry-”

Harry moves to the scrollbacked chair behind his desk, settles into it before crossing his legs, right ankle resting on the opposing knee. He interlaces his hands neatly in his lap, and cuts Eggsy off sharply.

“What are you doing breaking into my office, Eggsy?”

“I-I-”

Words have never been so hard to find as they are in this moment and Eggsy is humiliatingly aware of how juvenile he looks, sputtering and caught in an fucking mess of a plan. 

“Have you got another tryst planned?”

There’s a sharpness to Harry’s words that makes Eggsy feel distinctly scolded, and he doesn’t have to feign the guilt creasing his eyes.

“Who with this time? Another candidate, or perhaps you’ve graduated to one of the controls techs-”

“No one!” Eggsy blurts out hotly, feeling the flush in his neck. Harry doesn’t look convinced, regarding Eggsy with that same even, cool gaze.

“I swear it, Harry - I ain’t meeting anyone, I wouldn’t do that in your office -”

“Then why else are you in here? Surely you’re not on some ill-fated recon mission, Merlin trained you far better than that, though I suppose if you’re some sort of double agent sent to take us down from the inside -”

“NO!” Eggsy interjects, this time sounding faintly horrified. He hadn’t even considered Harry thinking that as a possibility.

“Then why the hell are you in my office, Eggsy?” Harry demands, his own voice growing hard, the words accompanied by his leaning forward slightly in his chair to spear Eggsy in place with a bladed gaze.

“Because - because - because I was gonna try to seduce you,” Eggsy blurts out, realizing as the words burst out how absolutely ridiculous they sound, how damning they are in this context - fuck, even _out_ of this context. His neck is properly aflame now, and he considers just making a fucking bolt for it.

Except Harry doesn’t look upset. In fact, he doesn’t even look _surprised_ ; if anything he looks satisfied, settled back into his chair and regarding Eggsy with the ghost of a smile barely perceptible at his lips.

“Much better, Eggsy,” he murmurs, and Eggsy blinks.

That is not what he had expected to hear.

Harry seems to understand his confusion, since he leisurely adjusts his cufflinks before elaborating.

“You are a great many things, Eggsy, and most of them I’m very proud of, but I’m afraid you are far from subtle.”

Eggsy doesn’t even bother protesting this, still reeling from the unexpected praise. It had had an odd effect on him in that it had clouded his brain, and now all he wants to do is hear it again.

“When I walked in on you and Miss Morton in the closet… That was an accident, I presume?”

Harry waits on Eggsy’s mute nod before continuing.

“But Mr. Hesketh… Well. It’s no secret you loathe one another, and while Charlie might have no qualms with casting personal animosity aside in pursuit of.. Whatever that was, you are considerably more discerning.”

He rests his elbows on the armrests of the chair, studying Eggsy again.

“And now you’re here. Without a plan, it seems, but in my office all the same. What did you think would happen, Eggsy? You must know that any extracurricular relationship between us would be highly inappropriate and adversely affect your chances at joining Kingsman.”

Eggsy hadn’t known that, though hearing Harry say it aloud makes it suddenly so glaringly obvious that Eggsy wonders how the fuck he’d managed to pass his GSCE’s much less make it into a top-secret fucking spy program. 

“Harry -” he starts, taking a step forward, towards Harry’s desk, suddenly hating how huge it is, hulking between them like some gleaming mahogany barrier.

“It’s completely inappropriate for me to involve myself in a physical relationship with you,” Harry continues, speaking over Eggsy as though Eggsy hadn’t spoken at all, his gaze now burning with that same heat Eggsy had seen before - in the closet, in the controls room. Eggsy stops short, feeling suddenly that whatever Harry is about to say is important, feeling that the tension has suddenly twisted between them into something else.

“But I cannot help what I see.”

Harry pushes his chair back, legs extended now, both feet on the floor, creating a wide gap between himself and the edge of his desk. Eggsy’s eyes track the movement, a pinch of confusion creating a little ‘v’ in the bridge of his nose, unsure of what Harry’s getting at.

“And since you seem so fond of putting on shows… Well. I certainly can’t stop you from doing it here, right now, in my office. Especially not now that I’ve disabled all of the surveillance equipment and locked the door.”

Harry keeps his eyes locked on Eggsy’s and pointedly taps his watchface again, a series of faint hums fading into silence around them as the door clicks locked with a metallic sigh. Eggsy’s heartrate suddenly picks up, realizing what Harry’s asking him to do, realizing why Harry’s shifted back from the desk, and he feels inexplicably nervous but moreso rerouted, his blood fizzing through his body like warm champagne.

“If the cameras are off…” Eggsy starts, slowly unraveling his thoughts as he takes slow, measured steps nearer to Harry’s desk - to Harry. Harry stays put, watching him placidly, though his eyes are glinting with sharp desire. 

“... Then there ain’t no harm in you touching me just a bit, yeah?”

Eggsy stops at the side of the desk, passing his hand over the front of his jumpsuit just as he had when Harry had caught him on his knees, groping himself further into hardness though it doesn’t take much. Not when Harry’s looking at him like he’s on the verge of devouring him.

“If you can’t abide by the rules, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” Harry finally answers, prim and courteous as ever though the idea of being dismissed _now_ has Eggsy swallowing.

“No - no, I can. I will,” Eggsy is quick to say, and Harry rewards him with the barely-there smile.

“Very good, Eggsy. Have a seat.”

Harry gestures to the edge of his desk, the spot right in front of him, the empty space bracketed by his impossibly long legs. A thrill runs down Eggsy’s spine, and he doesn’t think twice before obediently slotting himself between them, careful not to touch Harry in any capacity on the off chance that even an accidental brush is grounds for dismissmal. There’s still a good three feet of distance between Harry and Eggsy but it feels like they’re practically pressed up against one another, the tension between them heavy and palpable and already shallowing out Eggsy’s breathing.

“Shall I walk you through it?” Harry says, and for a moment Eggsy thinks he’s taking the piss before he realizes it’s an honest-to-god offer.

“Yes.”

“Very well. Let’s see you properly hard first - no, not yet. Just as you were.”

Eggsy had moved to unzip his jumpsuit until Harry had stopped him, understanding belatedly that Harry wants to watch him touch himself through it. He’s more than happy to comply, eyes on Harry’s, lips parted as he palms himself cautiously through the Kingsman-issued fabric. Harry’s eyes are on him, all over him, gaze heavy enough to leave near-tangible fingerprints as he watches Eggsy.

“Christ, Eggsy,” Harry murmurs, shifting his own hands in his lap and subtly resting one just over himself - something that is so absurdly hot that Eggsy bites back a little groan, gripping his cock and attempting to pull himself off despite the fabric.

“Alright, Eggsy - very good, you’ve done very well. Now… from what I remember, you have a very pretty cock.”

Eggsy exhales sharply, half-hating how much it turns him on, to hear Harry call any part of him ‘pretty.’ It’s nearly as good as hearing Harry say ‘cock’ in his posh accent, his tongue rounding out the ‘o’ into something sharp and salacious, his throat working out the hard ‘c’ and sparking something low in Eggsy’s gut. 

“Would you like to show it to me?”

Eggsy squirms slightly on the spot, the sheer rudeness of such a question popping hot and thick in his veins as he nods.

“Yes? I thought you might. Go on, Eggsy, show me that lovely cock of yours again.”

Eggsy fumbles in his haste to comply, practically breaking the zipper of the suit as he yanks it down, unabashed in the way it bares his chest and abs as well. He’s breathing hard, heavy, practically panting with it as he yanks his briefs down and lets his cock spring free, proud and stiff and flushed with arousal.

Harry exhales a short breath of his own through his nose, his hand twitching in his lap as though it’s taking him an effort not to touch.

“You are absolutely exquisite,” Harry finally says, devouring the sight of Eggsy, shifting the hand in his lap only slightly. “Fuck, look at you… No.”

The reprimand is sharp, coming just as Eggsy had moved his hand to touch himself again, and the denial yanks a low whine from his chest as he stills his hand and curls it into a fist inches from his cock.

“Harry-”

“No. First, you will answer some questions for me. Are we clear?”

Eggsy nods, aggravation chasing arousal as he grits his teeth.

“Good. Tell me, Eggsy - you only let Charlie fuck that gorgeous mouth of yours so I’d see it, didn’t you?”

It’s an embarrassing question, and Eggsy doesn’t answer immediately - his hesitation causes Harry’s eyes to narrow, his head cocking a fraction to the side.

“Tell me the truth.”

Harry’s voice is so commanding and Eggsy is so hard for it that there’s no recourse _but_ to answer honestly.

“Yes,” he groans, now clutching the edge of the desk behind him with both hands as he gives his hips the slightest buck, as though he can find some friction in the nothingness between them.

“Yes, what?” Harry goads, his voice hard with authority. Eggsy feels light-headed with how absurdly hot it is.

“Yes - _yes_ , I wanted you to see me, I wanted you to walk in on me and Charlie, fuck, Harry, _please_ -”

“Why Charlie?”

“Fuckin’ hell, Harry, I dunno, he was - he was the easiest one, I just had to get a cock in my mouth so you’d see-”

“Even though you loathe Charlie? You’d debase yourself like that, Eggsy, show so little respect for yourself just so I’d see you on your knees, acting like a tart with-”

“ _Yes,_ ” Eggsy snaps, snapping his hips again in sheer frustration.

“Yes, what?” Harry repeats, and Eggsy hates him in this moment, really, he does, he half wants to just wank off as quickly as he can right now to fucking stop Harry Hart from having his twisted fun… Only that’s not really what he wants at all.

“Yes, I wanted to whore it up for you, alright? Fuck, Harry, I always do, you make me want to - to do all sorts of fucked-up shit, alright, you fucking arsehole-”

“Like what?”

Eggsy exhales shortly through his teeth, his knuckles paling with the tightness of his grip at the desk’s blunt edge.

“I… I dunno. I liked it when… when…”

He pauses, swallows thickly. Harry regards him with authoritative expectation, his mouth still maddeningly relaxed. There is no tension to him save for the hint of focus creasing the corners of his eyes, a stark contrast since Eggsy feels so tightly wound he’s liable to pop apart at any moment.

“When?” Harry encourages, the faintest trace of command to the word. It goes straight to Eggsy’s cock, and he bites back an aborted groan.

“I liked it when you saw me with Roxy. I like… the idea of you… watching me fuck someone else.”

Eggsy has to wrest each word from low in his chest, both wanting and not wanting to confess to Harry. To Harry's credit, they don’t seem to shock him; instead, he tucks his lower lip momentarily beneath his tongue, wetting it as he studies Eggsy as though perplexed by a particularly challenging crossword.

“And is it Miss Morton that you want me to see you with? Just her?”

“No,” Eggsy admits, heat streaking his cheeks an uneven pink as he presses his thumbs hard into the cool wood. He should feel ludicrous, his cock out and on display without any attention being paid to it, Harry’s eyes on his face and utterly ignoring the indecency of the scene. Instead he feels so hard that it’s aching, a steady pulse tightening his balls as he swallows and continues.

“No, ain’t just Roxy. I like the idea of you seein’ me do anything. With - with anyone. And -”

Eggsy hesitates for a moment, and Harry tips his chin slightly downward, an unspoken demand.

“... And tellin’ me I’d done a good job.”

This seems to finally peak Harry’s interest, the hunger flaring up in his eyes again, quirking his mouth barely perceptibly.

“You’d like that? Hearing me tell you how well you’d fucked her, how gorgeously you were sucking Charlie off?”

Eggsy actually _whimpers_. He should be more embarrassed but there’s no blood left in his brain to process such a complex emotion, seeing as it’s all rushed to his cock.

“You were, Eggsy. You were doing such a lovely job, I could hear them all the way down the corridor. And all because of you - such a good boy.”

“Harry, _please_ ,” Eggsy begs, his voice cracking humiliatingly though it’s impossible to care. He’s so hard that he’s fairly certain he’s in danger of going into some sort of arrest, cardiac or testicular or _something_.

“Please, what? Tell me, Eggsy, tell me what you want,” Harry pushes, his words suddenly urgent, his voice gravelled slightly with arousal. There’s a loose strand of dark hair that’s falling into his eyes, splitting apart his posh exterior and making him look maddeningly, perfectly disheveled.

“Want you to see me fuck Charlie - fuckin’ hell, Harry, I want you to tell me how good I am, want to hear you say it while you’re watching me _get_ fucked - I want - god, Harry, want you to watch me come, I want you to see it -”

“Then show me, Eggsy.”

Harry says it as though it’s the simplest thing in the world, as though Eggsy had been the hold-up this entire time. Eggsy is taken aback by how abruptly Harry gives him permission, momentarily stilling as though unsure whether or not he’s allowed to do just that, but then Harry palms _himself_ through his expensive trousers and Eggsy groans sharply with anticipation.

He’s fisting a hand around his cock in a second, pulling himself off in greedy, fluid strokes, chest rising and collapsing heavily as he stares at Harry, watches the rapt greed on Harry’s own expression as he watches Eggsy. He’s a fucking voyeur, that’s what he is, a dirty old lech, a filthy pervert, and _god_ if it isn’t the hottest goddamn thing Eggsy has ever seen, the sight of prim Harry Hart with a hand resting casually on his cock as he leans forward slightly at the waist to watch Eggsy jerk off for him -

“Oh, _fuck_ , Harry, can I-”

He doesn’t know why he’d asked for permission but it only makes it all the hotter when Harry grants it, telling him, “yes, Eggsy, come for me, go on,” his own voice breathless and raw and Eggsy obeys in an instant, a low, long groan pulling from his chest as he comes, hard, striping the posh burgundy rug at their feet with white, a few errant drops tarnishing the otherwise pristine knee of Harry’s Kingsman suit.

Eggsy barely registers any of it; he feels like he’s just had his first proper orgasm since that first moment he’d locked eyes with Harry Hart in that fucking storeroom with Roxy, feels sated and boneless and near-melting as he sags against the edge of Harry’s desk. His cock is still lewdly out as he wipes his hand weakly on his thigh, his breathing still erratic as he blinks back up to find Harry, looking unruffled as ever, settled back into his chair.

“Harry,” he breathes hoarsely, carding his clean hand through his hair. “You’re a proper freak, do you know that?”

“Quite,” Harry answers primly, failing to entirely suppress the smile playing at his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this nonsense, I weirdly labored over it even though no work this length should take that much effort. Please leave comments and let me know what you think, they are 90% of the reason I keep writing fic - what can I say, I've got a praise kink too. Thanks for reading and always come chat to me at threewickfic on tumblr!


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